The Page
The motive of some who succeed
is as thus:
“I know that I possess wisdom,
therefore I write it on a page”
The thing that has changed
in all of humanity’s years
is the texture of that page
The page grows older,
softer till we touch it no more
feel it much less
see it unceasingly sophisticated
while we grow wiser in some restrained measure
or perhaps the growth of some wisdom is restrained
however we see it.
First it was of cave.
Easy-to-understand-art
detailing easy-to-understand tales
Cave moved to become stone,
stone became papyrus then soon paper,
carver, stick, stitch, and knife became pen
Wisdom could move nearly anywhere
still this did not guarantee it moved into our hearts
Paper sustained for a while, living in mills,
then portable machines became supreme
in pages visible to the whole world.
With a sense of who would see it came
much fear, or boldness; these were always there
but never to this extent
Those who knew themselves wise once
began to doubt and a simple medium
that man had always used
because it looked different now:
scared desperately
scarred dauntingly
scabbed decidedly
scolded unceasingly
stabbed terribly
and revealed deeply,
fewer wise men than should wrote;
fewer transformative speakers that could spoke;
at whim wisdom, folly, or both
could appear, disappear, be written,
but not always easily deleted;
stories vanished.
dreams-easily banished.
reputations tarnished.
pitch-forks and torches
were endlessly brandished
even by those without the boldness
to write on pages
and the people continued on
wisdom-famished
needing full pages of a hesitant man or woman’s thoughts of life
to feed their souls.
Yet, nay.
many-a-empty page
still followed humanity
to their grave.
©2020 by Ayo Okikiolu.
Context:
Pages are humanity's means of communication. If you're reading this, you're likely on a webpage. Even before it was named so, pages have always housed our wisdom and piqued our interest. Till now, they haven't let go.
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